


dungeons & dragons & house hunting

by darkcomedylateshow



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, fun with D&D, it doesn't have to make sense it's entertainment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:38:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcomedylateshow/pseuds/darkcomedylateshow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>because I was talking about a d&d AU, as in, an AU where they actively play d&d, and I also wanted to write some corny jarrich content. warning: this is silly</p>
    </blockquote>





	dungeons & dragons & house hunting

**Author's Note:**

> because I was talking about a d&d AU, as in, an AU where they actively play d&d, and I also wanted to write some corny jarrich content. warning: this is silly

     “It’s too dark to see more than a few feet in front of you, even with your torches.” Gilfoyle reads off a heavily annotated sheet of notes. “You hear sounds. But you can’t tell what’s real and what’s imaginary.”  

     “Makes no fucking sense,” Dinesh mutters, leaning over to look at the papers. “Can I look at the map? That the old adventurer gave us?” 

     “No, because Baldar isn’t carrying the map. Valerys is.” 

     “Valerys. What does the map say?” 

     “I don’t know.” Jared furrows his brow at the page on his side of the table. “This map isn’t very informative, beyond the structure of the rooms.” 

     “Yeah, but which way should we go?” 

     “Probably left,” he says. 

     “You turn left and hit an old drawbridge, around twenty feet long and three feet wide.” 

     “How high up is it?"

     “You can’t see the bottom. Still too dark.” 

     Richard clears his throat. “I take a pebble and drop it off the edge to gauge the distance.” 

     Gilfoyle pauses, and everyone goes noticeably tense.

     “After four or five seconds, you hear it hit what sounds like water.” 

     “Okay,” Dinesh sighs, “who’s going to test the bridge out?” 

     Before anyone can interject, Gilfoyle says: “You all decide to draw straws.” 

     “Do we even  _have_ straws?” 

     “In the kitchen,” Erlich says. 

     “It’s fine, don’t get up,” Richard says, “I’ll do it. Jared — _Valerys_ — hand me your rope.”

     “Be careful,” Jared says, and pats his arm. 

     “I, uh, secure the rope around my waist and try to cross the bridge. Carefully.” 

     “You make it to the other side. It seems pretty stable. Still, it was smart to test it.” Gilfoyle checks his watch. “We’ve been going for six hours. Let’s just say you all made it to the other side and set up camp.” 

* * *

     Jared’s pretending to be asleep on his shoulder, so Richard nudges him with his elbow. “Look at this.” 

     “At what?” he asks, raising his head to squint at the laptop screen. The display says it’s almost one in the morning, and in the dark room, it’s like staring at the sun. Jared’s already told him it’s not good for his eyes, but getting him to listen is about as easy as herding cats. 

     “This apartment,” Richard says, stifling a yawn. “It comes furnished, and—“ 

     “It’s a little late to be house hunting, isn’t it?” 

     “ _Apartment_ hunting,” he corrects, “and I can’t sleep.” 

     “Well, you haven’t really tried, have you?” 

     Richard sighs and closes his laptop, setting it on the end of the bed (even though he’s always afraid it’ll slip off and plummet however many feet to the floor.) 

     “Do you really want to move in together?” he finally asks, still sitting upright. 

     “I’m not saying we shouldn’t.” He can somehow tell Jared's frowning at him in the dark. “I just think you should go to sleep, is all.” 

     “But do you _want_ to?” 

     “I want whatever you want,” Jared says, which is what he almost always says. He hears him hesitate before he adds: “But how do you think it’ll go over with everyone else?” 

     “I don’t know. I don’t want to freak them out. Maybe we shouldn’t tell them until, you know, we’ve decided for sure.” 

     “Let’s not keep it a secret.” 

     “It’s not a secret. We’re just not telling them.” 

     “That’s the definition of a secret,” Jared says, and Richard lies down next to him, his head on his shoulder. “Get some sleep, okay?” 

     Richard  _does_ sleep, but not well. 

* * *

      He puts on an actually nice shirt to meet the realtor, something his mom gave him for Christmas that’s a little big in the sleeves. Jared complimented the shirt back before they’d started dating, but were almost certainly going to, and once he’d touched the collar and felt the fabric before he kissed him, and that’s what Richard permanently associates it with — that’s not why he picked it, though, it’s just a nice shirt, probably the nicest he owns. 

     When he steps into the living room, everyone’s gathered around the table, including Monica. 

     “Is this an intervention or something?” he asks, sounding too nervous for the joke to land. 

     “No,” Dinesh says. “But we’re going to start the session.” 

     “Well — actually, I can’t really do it today. Sorry, guys. We can just say Grandin is on, I don’t know, a religious pilgrimage.” 

     “And _why_ is Grandin going on a pilgrimage in the middle of the campaign, exactly?” Dinesh asks, pointedly. 

     “It makes sense for Grandin.” Richard zips up his jacket, as if it’s not obvious enough he’s agitated. “You know, he’s a very, um, spiritual guy. Right?” 

     Then Jared’s behind him, his hand on his shoulder. “Ready?"

     “For fuck’s sake,” Dinesh says. “It’s one thing to not have Grandin, but we _need_ Valerys. She’s the only cleric. Unless we make Monica one, but that’s a little cruel.” 

     “What are you guys doing, anyway?” Monica asks (and Richard wonders how Erlich roped her into this.) 

     “We, um—” 

     “Just a meeting,” Jared says, breezily. 

     “With who?” 

     “It’s a business meeting," Richard says, trying (and failing) to seem nonchalant.

     “My friend just moved here and wants to pitch his company to us.” 

     “Yeah. His friend. It’s a —“ 

     "Real estate listing aggregator.” 

     Richard notices for the first time that, when he needs to be, Jared’s a decent liar. If they aren’t buying it, they’re at least being polite about it. Still, the back of Richard’s neck is burning red, out of some weird combination of guilt and excitement. 

     “Making a little nest egg, huh?” Erlich says, leaning back in his chair. “I knew it would happen someday.” 

     "I mean,” Richard says, holding back a bout of nervous laughter, “we don’t know for sure if it’s really happening. Right, Jared?”

     “Right. We’re just going to look at it and see if it’d be a good option.” Jared guides them both to the door to avoid any more questioning. “See you guys later.” 

     After they lock the door, Dinesh knits his brow. “I don’t think Jared has any other friends.” 

     “He doesn’t,” Gilfoyle says.

     Everyone watches them pull out of the driveway. 

* * *

      The realtor is nice, _incredibly_ nice, and they follow her BMW around different neighborhoods Richard’s never even been in. She advises them to picture living in it the best they can, so Richard tries to picture his posters and books on the walls and Jared’s shirts hung neatly in the process. It makes him a little queasy.

     They’re standing in the empty space of a studio apartment with a big window facing the hills when she gets a phone call, apologizing profusely before going to the kitchen to answer. 

     “What do you think?” Jared asks, once they’re alone. 

     “Jared, don’t you think these are out of our price range?” 

     “Cathy is a fierce negotiator. You’d be surprised.” 

     “But I mean, this place has an _infinity pool_. Do we really need that?” 

     “It’s not like we have it to ourselves,” he points out. “We’d share it with the whole complex.” 

     “I’m just — this feels weird now that it’s actually happening, you know? Now that I’m _really_ thinking about it.”

     “Well, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To make it feel a little more real.” 

     “I just don’t—” he shrugs, trying to keep himself from spiraling too much when a stranger is in the other room. “It’s not because I don’t love you, or I don’t want to be with you all the time, because I do! You know? But are we really gonna, like, live somewhere actually nice because we can afford it? Are we going to _entertain_ in this room? Buy _flatware_?”

     “None of that sounds _bad_ , does it?” Jared squeezes his hand. 

     “It doesn’t,” he admits, “but picturing it is weird.” 

     Before Jared can speak again, the realtor’s back in the room, smiling at them both. “I’m so sorry. Let me show you the master bathroom, okay?” 

     “Sure,” Richard says, so Jared doesn’t have to shut the whole thing down and embarrass the both of them. “So, uh, what kind of countertops are these?” 

* * *

      “What is it?” 

     “A golem carved with runes stands at the end of the cavern.” 

     “Mother _fuck_.” 

     “Hold on.” Dinesh leans over, trying to look past the cardboard partition. “I thought we were doing the swarm of oozes for the boss.” 

     “I changed my mind.”

     “I thought you were letting me help with this campaign.” 

     “Again. Changed my mind. Don’t powerplay, Dinesh.” 

     “There is _no_ way we can beat this guy. Half our party is gone. Erlich’s passed out. And Monica, no offense, but—”

     “For fuck’s sake, Dinesh!” Erlich pounds on the table as if real lives are at stake (and they kind of are.) “It’s not Gilfoyle’s fault Grandin and Valerys are off slobbering all over each other. We have to take this stone asshole out.” 

     "I’ll throw you a bone,” Gilfoyle says, opening another beer. "Monica, as a rogue, you have a first-strike advantage.” 

     "I don’t know what that means." 

     "It means you’re faster than the golem and can go first."

     “Does it have a weak point?” 

     “Not that you can tell.” 

     “Okay, I’ll just try shooting it with my crossbow?” she says, and gingerly rolls the dice. When they land on the table, everyone leans over to look. “Fourteen.” 

     Erlich laughs in relief. “ _Fuck_ yes, Monica.” 

     “You manage to stagger him. But—”  

     “Let me cast a firebolt,” Dinesh says, then catches himself. “Never mind. Fuck. I’ll just — whack it with my quarterstaff.” 

     Erlich turns to Gilfoyle, clutching his character sheet. “Am I still down?” 

     “You are.” 

     “Can I use my healing tonic?” 

     “Nope.”  

     “Fuck my _cock_ ," Dinesh says, staring down at the table. “Critical miss.” 

     “I’m going to recommend running away,” Gilfoyle says. “It’s not going to get any easier.” 

     “Oh, come _on_ , dude,” Dinesh says. "We made it this far.” 

     “I’m only going to say this one more time. The odds are _not_ in your favor.” 

     Dinesh looks to Monica, who’s clueless, then to Erlich, who just shrugs. He sighs. “We all decide to flee.”  

     “What about me?” Erlich asks — not even angry, just worried. 

     “…We decide to flee, and drag Wyvern’s useless ass with us, because he’s our friend.” 

     “You all get ten points inspiration,” Gilfoyle says, and closes his notebook. “Let’s take a break.” 

     Dinesh rubs his temples. “I fucking hate the fifth edition.” 

* * *

      It’s quiet on the drive back. Richard turns off the radio before Jared even gets in, because he’s afraid it’ll get him more agitated than he already is. He rehearses explanations in his head, thinks about how he’s fucked himself over. It’s just like him to flake out on his own idea. 

     He starts to wonder how the session went without them, too, but then chides himself for it.  

     Once they get off the expressway and hit the first stop sign, he asks: “What’s on your mind, Richard?” 

     His answer comes quicker than he expects. “It’s just that I changed my mind. I was completely wrong. I love this house, and the idiot people that live in it, and playing fucking Dungeons and Dragons. I know I’m _supposed_ to want our own place, but I can’t even imagine leaving, not now. You know?” 

     “Richard?” 

     “Yeah?” 

     “I feel the same way.” 

     He reaches over and touches a spot between his shoulder blades, and Richard takes his foot off the brake and drives home a little faster than usual. Then minutes later they’re parked by the curb, and they’re kissing with Jared leaning over the passenger side, pulling at his collar, Richard’s head against the glass. He wants to keep going, but the lights are on in the house, and there’s no way they can pull off stumbling inside without already looking completely guilt-ridden — so he pulls back, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. 

     “You okay?” he asks him, and Jared just laughs breathlessly. 

     “I’m great.” He squeezes Richard’s shoulder. “Really good.” 

* * *

     “You strike the golem one more time, and — _boom_. It doesn’t make any noise as it crumbles to dust.” 

     Richard hasn’t seen the whole room look so relieved, and exhausted, in a long time. Not even any satisfied cheering or laughing, but just quiet smiles, knowing they beat the odds. 

     “All that’s left is a worn leather pouch. Inside is one hundred gold pieces, two-fifty copper, and sixty pieces of turquoise.” 

     “Oh, for _fuck_ ’s sake,” Dinesh says. “Nothing else?” 

     “Wasn’t the real reward the friends we made along the way?” Jared ventures. Dinesh can’t even come up with a response beyond rolling his eyes. 

     “Yeah, now we have a ranged weapon user,” Richard says. “That’s pretty good.”  

     “You’re right.” Erlich reaches for a handful of chips. “We’re very lucky to have encountered Monica while the rest of our party was off looking at real estate.” 

     “Actually, just an aggregator for _listings_ ,” Jared interjects. “Not actual real estate. I mean, how silly would that be?” 

     Gilfoyle smirks. “You tell me, Jared.” 

     “It doesn’t matter.” Richard looks around the table, surrounded by the same faces as always, but he’s never felt happier to see them. “What matters is, where are we going next?” 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](http://bachmannsearningsoverride.tumblr.com), if you're into that kind of thing


End file.
